Mutation Analyst Star | The Rune of Chaos (Auro)
- Location
- USA
A set of a couple of omakes for Auro.
Within my workshop I examined the many data slates, the myriad concepts that flowed within the warp. The principle of the ritual already designed and understood, a trinity of trinities giving structure and form to the chaos of the shattered empyrean beyond the veil. Yet, that is not my current focus, I turn now towards the lesser works as my brothers would deride them but in their own right they are far greater than the ritual I work upon. Less effort spent for a greater payment of result in the grand future that I hope to build.
The legion has seceded from the Imperium and I hope now a chance to truly build a grander design awaits. If this proves to be yet another false image I will leave this place and go forth on my own, to serve Humanity as I see fit. Regardless, the books will be written, the technical details that the Mechanical strangles in their singular grip unveiled to the galaxy at large, I will shatter their corrupt dominance of all science and knowledge. It is the rightful inheritance of all man to bear these secrets, and the time has come to render this first strike and so I shall.
But, not at this moment, I have something grander in mind to work upon. An evolving design, a creation that breeches the previous limits I would dare to attempt. I now have access to the full list of encountered mutations within the imperium, I have access to the legion's own records of mutations rare and common. I can now for the first time examine them and already I find flaws in the methodology used in the collection of the data, but that is to be expected. My brothers are cautious and would find little reason to truly care about the value of warp induced mutations even if they were pure beyond undoing them.
I take a different path, the Iron of Humanity is fragile, unrefined, it is flawed indeed, it is nothing to my steel flesh or the grander silver of the primarchs. It bears no relation to the inhuman perfect flesh of the custodians or the Emperor, yet that need not be the case for all time. In the ages past humans improved their being through the workings of technology, we ourselves astartes and primarchs are the work of gene craft sublime.
It is perhaps one of the greatest sins of this era that few truly care to understand matters they find disagreeable. Mutation, a simple word for such a myriad of concepts, I ponder the reason for It to mean so much. The definition is to be something changed from the norm, to be altered, to mutate away from a predefined normality point. Yet, by that same standard all of humanity is mutants to each other, a child born upon Valhalla compared to a child of Olympia is notably different, if not yet to the point of being different species their genomes yet tell a story of distance.
If all are mutants then why are Mutants considered as such. Is it because their bodies are mutated away from the standard form of man? That too can not be the answer to this conundrum for many add and replace limbs with cybernetic or even biological augments and none consider them mutants. The Night Watch of the Wardens have been given enough genetic augments as to be by all measures mutants, and yet they are prized and celebrated. What makes a Mutant a Mutant then? The only conclusion I can reach is that the description means nothing in and of itself, with meaning only coming from those that use it.
The Wardens declare any to suffer from a warp induced alteration to the germ or soma cells to be a mutant. Humans declare anything notably different from what they expect to be a mutant. Yet, does that need to be the case? I question the inherent wisdom of discarding the information contained within mutations, the majority are biologically driven even if they do increase the risk of future mutations they do exist within the normal bounds of genetics. It is a rare mutation that exists purely and solely upon the basis of the shattered empyrean enforcing it to work.
I examine the data and find commonalities that others would discard, mutations group together affecting singular parts of the body more often than not. Limbs being added or altered, organs shifted or duplicated, senses adjusted and or added. In the end the more I study the more I consider the majority of mutations as but examples of biology twisted and malformed. But, within every tumor there is an insight to be had. Genetic augments exist that draw upon the principles of cancer to render cells immune to the biological effects of age allowing for indefinite replication, with the issues induced managed by technological means. This is but the same principle writ large, I will study the mutations common, rare, exotic all that exist and are recorded that do not kill the person that has them or induces them into the grip of the maddened fractals. From this I hope to expand my awareness of biology and in due course work with Fabius of the Emperor's Children to author a new genetic ascendance for humanity.
To improve the lives of man, to harden them against corruption, to give them the tools needed to match the threats of the galaxy beyond. Biology refined and a new genome authored rendering all superior, to reach even the level of Shandra is perhaps impossible, but improvements are plentiful as seen with the array of genetic augments that the genetors possess. To expand from working with merely human derived genetics into alien and mutation sourced genomes, purged of undue influence, rendered pure through the use of rational practical effort. I foresee an era of man glorious and absent the many flaws of this age; age and weakness purged, disease a fading memory. A dream that shall never be seen, but perhaps I can lay forth the first step, to set the mortar in place for the future to be built upon.
Turning to my systems, the grinding year long analysis that I have undertaken in the shadows of my grander works. The systems moving forward on their own under the supervision of Ochar rather than myself. Gathering the data that I seek from the imperial army and the domain of Kesar. I have reached out to Baldur for assistance in this manner his spinets a distasteful truth that I accept are yet needed even as I dream of a future where man no longer needs to be watched for sin. In the end, his assistance is great for this purpose giving me access to the least restricted of his data in turn providing me with insight large and small into the situation of the mutants.
Mutants, Abhumans, two words that vary for the same purpose, the twinkling stars of souls of both the same as man, perhaps with aspects occluded or changed, but their hearts are no more apart from man than my own stands. I examine the reports, I parse the data regarding their natures, I calculate the value that their genomes and mutations will provide to humanity and then I begin to build my thesis for the apothecary of the Legion. The legions in the past have taken marines of less than pure stock, I recall the ancient legends of the 9th of their origination. I recall the days when any and all recruits that were compilable were accepted, by the modern standards I would have been rejected and that was a positive trend for I have no illusions regarding my former state as being a positive asset to the legion.
In the past the legions accepted those of varied genetic stock, the 9th most of all, but we all did even the 11th despite Oriacarius' restrictions from the origin. To this end I submit the argument that these restrictions have served their place for the legions, I compare the various genetic profiles of the legions of the modern age that I have data for against the time of origination. I mark out the influence of the research that Kesar has achieved into stability and mutation resolution, all of which combine to render the option of accepting mutants and abhumans once more viable perhaps even to a greater degree than previous.
To turn a mutant or abhuman into an astartes others might find the idea anomalous for my professed desires and goals to see humanity superior and bettered. Yet, to that argument I submit the counterpoint of what could be a more noble action than giving a mutant or abhuman a path out of the mire that they have fallen into of no fault of their own, of no curse that they choose to bear, of merely chance giving them a fate worse than death upon a thousand worlds. I appeal to the emotions of the others in my legion with my cold words, I am no grand orator nor speaker or writer, but my words of harsh truth and clear intent have purpose to them when put to paper the others understand. I write only that which I believe to be true and the same holds now as I turn to the project once more.
I reach out to my contacts in the Thousand Sons, and gain information on their recruitment procedures to a light degree for all such rituals are secrets to the legion that I understand even as I find such secrecy an unfortunate truth. I do not understand the principles behind the secrecy at hand in this field, we are all one and the same cast and molded into the form of the astartes, the chains woven into our soul and flesh. In perhaps an ironic twist the mutants are the true reflection of humanity, a collection of disparate parts that yet work together for a greater future than our artificial conformity of being.
In the end, I have learned much from this project regarding the nature of humanity and mutants, of the plight of the Blank and Psyker. Yet, through the assistance of Baldur I have learned of a third metaphysically important strain of man, the so named Discordant. From the reports I have gathered on their powers and nature, I wonder if perhaps they are blanks that have their powers filtered through a singular aspect into a counteraction to technology. Drawing from my time with Majestic I ponder if perhaps they are a form of natural Grey Soul in disharmonious unity, the material and warp sides conflicting with the other, resulting in a disjunction wherein the warp bleeds into reality altering the subtle underpinnings of physics itself.
It is known that blanks can not become Astartes, but I am unsure if the same yet applies to the Discordant. I would find it a worthy experiment to attempt the ascension upon a worthy one to learn more, but the cost to the Discordant could not be understated, to learn at the cost of another was not anathema to me, but it was distasteful in the extreme. Perhaps Magnus would be willing to provide the services of one of his sons to ensure their survival if the implants rejected them. No matter, I mark down a request for the legion to attempt to recruit a Discordant into our ranks. I would have much to explore with such a man, I must admit to some amusement that their existence seemed to have slipped Cawl and Alexander by as neither mentioned them during my time with the Grey Soul project.
Yet, as interesting as the Discordant was, it was but one of the infinity of mutations that existed within the whole of humanity and but an example of the worth of the study thereof. How many mutations existed that could have such grand effects if properly expressed rather than partly or not even expressed. I write the thesis to the apothecary to entreaty them to sequence the mutations they find among the Imperial Army, and our legion. I hope that in time this will lead to augments derived from the wild mutations that are currently considered verbatim for with such a truth perhaps in time there will be a better future for those so declared as Mutants.
With the aid of my peers of the Library and the apothecaries this mystery will one day be solved and aid humanity in reaching to another level of mastery over themselves and the galaxy at large. A galaxy of a singular form would be a dream place indeed, the majestic sights within the dreaming world of the warp lost and brought into a harsh order unfitting, chaos and order entwined give rise to the true beauty of existence. To give people the gift of self mastery shall in time give rise to great vistas of dreams and hopes that will clash with others and give rise to ever greater complexity. For each mind is an universe unto itself and from those collisions does reality across both sides grow ever richer.
The legion has seceded from the Imperium and I hope now a chance to truly build a grander design awaits. If this proves to be yet another false image I will leave this place and go forth on my own, to serve Humanity as I see fit. Regardless, the books will be written, the technical details that the Mechanical strangles in their singular grip unveiled to the galaxy at large, I will shatter their corrupt dominance of all science and knowledge. It is the rightful inheritance of all man to bear these secrets, and the time has come to render this first strike and so I shall.
But, not at this moment, I have something grander in mind to work upon. An evolving design, a creation that breeches the previous limits I would dare to attempt. I now have access to the full list of encountered mutations within the imperium, I have access to the legion's own records of mutations rare and common. I can now for the first time examine them and already I find flaws in the methodology used in the collection of the data, but that is to be expected. My brothers are cautious and would find little reason to truly care about the value of warp induced mutations even if they were pure beyond undoing them.
I take a different path, the Iron of Humanity is fragile, unrefined, it is flawed indeed, it is nothing to my steel flesh or the grander silver of the primarchs. It bears no relation to the inhuman perfect flesh of the custodians or the Emperor, yet that need not be the case for all time. In the ages past humans improved their being through the workings of technology, we ourselves astartes and primarchs are the work of gene craft sublime.
It is perhaps one of the greatest sins of this era that few truly care to understand matters they find disagreeable. Mutation, a simple word for such a myriad of concepts, I ponder the reason for It to mean so much. The definition is to be something changed from the norm, to be altered, to mutate away from a predefined normality point. Yet, by that same standard all of humanity is mutants to each other, a child born upon Valhalla compared to a child of Olympia is notably different, if not yet to the point of being different species their genomes yet tell a story of distance.
If all are mutants then why are Mutants considered as such. Is it because their bodies are mutated away from the standard form of man? That too can not be the answer to this conundrum for many add and replace limbs with cybernetic or even biological augments and none consider them mutants. The Night Watch of the Wardens have been given enough genetic augments as to be by all measures mutants, and yet they are prized and celebrated. What makes a Mutant a Mutant then? The only conclusion I can reach is that the description means nothing in and of itself, with meaning only coming from those that use it.
The Wardens declare any to suffer from a warp induced alteration to the germ or soma cells to be a mutant. Humans declare anything notably different from what they expect to be a mutant. Yet, does that need to be the case? I question the inherent wisdom of discarding the information contained within mutations, the majority are biologically driven even if they do increase the risk of future mutations they do exist within the normal bounds of genetics. It is a rare mutation that exists purely and solely upon the basis of the shattered empyrean enforcing it to work.
I examine the data and find commonalities that others would discard, mutations group together affecting singular parts of the body more often than not. Limbs being added or altered, organs shifted or duplicated, senses adjusted and or added. In the end the more I study the more I consider the majority of mutations as but examples of biology twisted and malformed. But, within every tumor there is an insight to be had. Genetic augments exist that draw upon the principles of cancer to render cells immune to the biological effects of age allowing for indefinite replication, with the issues induced managed by technological means. This is but the same principle writ large, I will study the mutations common, rare, exotic all that exist and are recorded that do not kill the person that has them or induces them into the grip of the maddened fractals. From this I hope to expand my awareness of biology and in due course work with Fabius of the Emperor's Children to author a new genetic ascendance for humanity.
To improve the lives of man, to harden them against corruption, to give them the tools needed to match the threats of the galaxy beyond. Biology refined and a new genome authored rendering all superior, to reach even the level of Shandra is perhaps impossible, but improvements are plentiful as seen with the array of genetic augments that the genetors possess. To expand from working with merely human derived genetics into alien and mutation sourced genomes, purged of undue influence, rendered pure through the use of rational practical effort. I foresee an era of man glorious and absent the many flaws of this age; age and weakness purged, disease a fading memory. A dream that shall never be seen, but perhaps I can lay forth the first step, to set the mortar in place for the future to be built upon.
Turning to my systems, the grinding year long analysis that I have undertaken in the shadows of my grander works. The systems moving forward on their own under the supervision of Ochar rather than myself. Gathering the data that I seek from the imperial army and the domain of Kesar. I have reached out to Baldur for assistance in this manner his spinets a distasteful truth that I accept are yet needed even as I dream of a future where man no longer needs to be watched for sin. In the end, his assistance is great for this purpose giving me access to the least restricted of his data in turn providing me with insight large and small into the situation of the mutants.
Mutants, Abhumans, two words that vary for the same purpose, the twinkling stars of souls of both the same as man, perhaps with aspects occluded or changed, but their hearts are no more apart from man than my own stands. I examine the reports, I parse the data regarding their natures, I calculate the value that their genomes and mutations will provide to humanity and then I begin to build my thesis for the apothecary of the Legion. The legions in the past have taken marines of less than pure stock, I recall the ancient legends of the 9th of their origination. I recall the days when any and all recruits that were compilable were accepted, by the modern standards I would have been rejected and that was a positive trend for I have no illusions regarding my former state as being a positive asset to the legion.
In the past the legions accepted those of varied genetic stock, the 9th most of all, but we all did even the 11th despite Oriacarius' restrictions from the origin. To this end I submit the argument that these restrictions have served their place for the legions, I compare the various genetic profiles of the legions of the modern age that I have data for against the time of origination. I mark out the influence of the research that Kesar has achieved into stability and mutation resolution, all of which combine to render the option of accepting mutants and abhumans once more viable perhaps even to a greater degree than previous.
To turn a mutant or abhuman into an astartes others might find the idea anomalous for my professed desires and goals to see humanity superior and bettered. Yet, to that argument I submit the counterpoint of what could be a more noble action than giving a mutant or abhuman a path out of the mire that they have fallen into of no fault of their own, of no curse that they choose to bear, of merely chance giving them a fate worse than death upon a thousand worlds. I appeal to the emotions of the others in my legion with my cold words, I am no grand orator nor speaker or writer, but my words of harsh truth and clear intent have purpose to them when put to paper the others understand. I write only that which I believe to be true and the same holds now as I turn to the project once more.
I reach out to my contacts in the Thousand Sons, and gain information on their recruitment procedures to a light degree for all such rituals are secrets to the legion that I understand even as I find such secrecy an unfortunate truth. I do not understand the principles behind the secrecy at hand in this field, we are all one and the same cast and molded into the form of the astartes, the chains woven into our soul and flesh. In perhaps an ironic twist the mutants are the true reflection of humanity, a collection of disparate parts that yet work together for a greater future than our artificial conformity of being.
In the end, I have learned much from this project regarding the nature of humanity and mutants, of the plight of the Blank and Psyker. Yet, through the assistance of Baldur I have learned of a third metaphysically important strain of man, the so named Discordant. From the reports I have gathered on their powers and nature, I wonder if perhaps they are blanks that have their powers filtered through a singular aspect into a counteraction to technology. Drawing from my time with Majestic I ponder if perhaps they are a form of natural Grey Soul in disharmonious unity, the material and warp sides conflicting with the other, resulting in a disjunction wherein the warp bleeds into reality altering the subtle underpinnings of physics itself.
It is known that blanks can not become Astartes, but I am unsure if the same yet applies to the Discordant. I would find it a worthy experiment to attempt the ascension upon a worthy one to learn more, but the cost to the Discordant could not be understated, to learn at the cost of another was not anathema to me, but it was distasteful in the extreme. Perhaps Magnus would be willing to provide the services of one of his sons to ensure their survival if the implants rejected them. No matter, I mark down a request for the legion to attempt to recruit a Discordant into our ranks. I would have much to explore with such a man, I must admit to some amusement that their existence seemed to have slipped Cawl and Alexander by as neither mentioned them during my time with the Grey Soul project.
Yet, as interesting as the Discordant was, it was but one of the infinity of mutations that existed within the whole of humanity and but an example of the worth of the study thereof. How many mutations existed that could have such grand effects if properly expressed rather than partly or not even expressed. I write the thesis to the apothecary to entreaty them to sequence the mutations they find among the Imperial Army, and our legion. I hope that in time this will lead to augments derived from the wild mutations that are currently considered verbatim for with such a truth perhaps in time there will be a better future for those so declared as Mutants.
With the aid of my peers of the Library and the apothecaries this mystery will one day be solved and aid humanity in reaching to another level of mastery over themselves and the galaxy at large. A galaxy of a singular form would be a dream place indeed, the majestic sights within the dreaming world of the warp lost and brought into a harsh order unfitting, chaos and order entwined give rise to the true beauty of existence. To give people the gift of self mastery shall in time give rise to great vistas of dreams and hopes that will clash with others and give rise to ever greater complexity. For each mind is an universe unto itself and from those collisions does reality across both sides grow ever richer.
The rune of Chaos waited for me in the secure room provided by the First Captain, the touch of its presence palpable even outside the systems that held it outside the normal passage of time and space. However that was but the rest echo of the horror contained within the now forsaken metal that had the rune carved into it on a level beyond truth. There was no recovery, no means of purging the rune even if such was sought. The impact it had was so absolute as to be rendered without flaw.
I stare into the rune, seeing the reflection in the shattered empyrean. I do not know what the others see when they behold the rune. Perhaps their eyes perceive merely the mundane truth of the shape or perhaps they sense the horror within but not what it truly is. I see more than I would ever have wished to see. I am aware of the folly of seeking ignorance but to see the true shape of my opposing force was a mental struggle to even bear. Chaos and the beings of Chaos were not the same. And the lies they told enraptured even themselves into the myth and legends of their purpose.
To any that knew the nature of Chaos the name of Chaos would become a question. For why would a force of randomness or perhaps at the most uncharitable disorder be a pure force of total destruction and denigration. For if Chaos was truly Chaotic would it not stand to reason that for every sin they would commuted that they would in turn provide a miracle of constructive intent. Or what about the fact that on any spectrum of action the middle was forever the greater whole. There is far more to the average than there are to the extremes.
Then why would Chaos be as it is rather than a force that when averaged across all actions be at worse a natural force upon the galaxy. Now that I see the Rune I know the truth behind the intent. A fractal three dimensional structure the barest hint of the infinity of dimensional folding that gives rise to the shape within the depths of the shattered empyrean. My peers would be stunned to know my inner thoughts as I behold the rune, Kesar himself would likely reject my conclusions for my stance stands against all that they have held dear.
Chaos is no force of Chaos, it is no force of randomness or disorder. It is in truth a force of Absolute Order. All daemons follow the same path, the archdaemons are but the daemons write large. From the simplest fury to the greatest of the archdaemons such as the Aspect Divider all are the same barring the discrepancy of power. Chaos is no force of disorder upon the galaxy nor of the warp, it does not change, it does not flex it is as constant as the tide to those that can see the pattern.
The daemons are but shards of the greater pattern, the archdaemons nodal points of the pattern. Chaos is a pattern, an algorithm designed to bring about the greatest misery to as many people as possible. Its agents unable to change their paths without great reason, narrative alterations to their very core purposes. The blood and thunder war is perhaps such an event, but that in turn only supports my case to be made on how intense the event must be to shift a being of Chaos even slightly out of its defined path.
The rune calls to me, it offers secrets of the depths of the warp, of the daemon that would enable me to bind to my soul power immortal. I see in its form the fluctuations that would allow me to ascend to glory under the aegis of Chaos via my rituals. I see within its fractal form the order that chaos abides by, I see now how false my previous view of Chaos was. I have long pitied the daemon since I learned how chained they were and how little true growth they could achieve. Now I pity even the archdaemons themselves for the madness that they are unaware that they suffer from unable to change or become something more.
Complexity, free will, the same truth across the many species, souls are perhaps the greatest truth of the mortal life. We are given the chance to grow, to become more as we push forward, our lives are free of innate chains. For that simple truth elevates us far above the daemon even the archdaemons. All of mortal life, from the lowliest animal to the greatest primarch we are all endowed with a innate potential greater than that of the grandest force of Chaos. Not even the nodes of Chaos are free to shape themselves , they are perhaps the most bound to the order that Chaos declares. I peer into the depths of the rune's structure in the depths of the warp seeing and learning, from this I learn now that the daemon princes are perhaps the most flexible of the daemons and even they are but crude imitations of a true soul.
Once the soul is transformed into a daemon there is no more true growth possible, the mind and being are locked forever into that of Chaos. Twisted to pride all that Chaos is and hate all that it is not. There is no way to wield corruption against Chaos. To be corrupted is to become less, it is an absolute truth that I see now how unavoidable it is. Chaos hates us, Chaos loves us, to see a soul torn down and mutilated to no longer be a soul, to no longer be able to cling to that last echo of true growth and freedom is the greatest victory for Chaos.
Chaos, a false title, a false description. Ruinous Order, I declare in my mind to be what I shall call the force from now on. It is a force of Order that seeks to ruin all things, it is absolute, true and harsh in a way that true randomness could never be. I watch the rune lash out in rage at my declaration and my mind and soul under the logical matrix remain unmoved. I stare out into the wider dreaming world and I see the true face of chaos. The madness that is the shattered empyrean flickering between n infinity of states and images and timelines, all curdled together absent order.
Yet, this absence was not a thing to hate, if the empyrean was to be fully ordered then it would lose a truth of its now form. Balance must be held between randomness and order, Chaos aligned too far to the insane and the force of Order. There was no true force of chaos within the warp, nothing that could confront the force of Order that is currently consuming all into itself.
The rune reacts to my sight, it tries to hide itself from me, but I effuse to let it obscure my sight within the mists. I have watered for too long in the mists to let my sight once more become clouded as I peel back the layers to see ever deeper into the ruth of Chaos. At the edge of my perceptions in the enter of the rune I beheld a closed Eye the central point of Chaos, something that underlies it all. A truth that I can not bear at the moment, I know the in the core of my being, if the eye opened all would be lost. But the insight into the order of Chaos was truly invaluable, already I see ways of protecting my rituals from disruption, to walk through paths that would give me a momentary advantage.
All things are an equation and now I see another variable of Chaos, another step upon the long and futile path of resolution. I will bring balance to the warp, I will oppose the force of Ruinous Order, but the shattered fragments, the nodal beings, the agents are all nothing to me. They are enemies of all soul bearing beings yes, but they are not my foe, my peers will fight them, I choose the true foe that of Ruinous Order itself as my target.
I am Crescum Auro, ritual master of the Eternal Wardens and I swear that one day Ruinous Order will be unmade as it was made long ago. I will not be there to see the final victory, but I will lay the foundation for the path and lift my hands to all the efforts that would bring to conclusion this chapter of history.
I stare into the rune, seeing the reflection in the shattered empyrean. I do not know what the others see when they behold the rune. Perhaps their eyes perceive merely the mundane truth of the shape or perhaps they sense the horror within but not what it truly is. I see more than I would ever have wished to see. I am aware of the folly of seeking ignorance but to see the true shape of my opposing force was a mental struggle to even bear. Chaos and the beings of Chaos were not the same. And the lies they told enraptured even themselves into the myth and legends of their purpose.
To any that knew the nature of Chaos the name of Chaos would become a question. For why would a force of randomness or perhaps at the most uncharitable disorder be a pure force of total destruction and denigration. For if Chaos was truly Chaotic would it not stand to reason that for every sin they would commuted that they would in turn provide a miracle of constructive intent. Or what about the fact that on any spectrum of action the middle was forever the greater whole. There is far more to the average than there are to the extremes.
Then why would Chaos be as it is rather than a force that when averaged across all actions be at worse a natural force upon the galaxy. Now that I see the Rune I know the truth behind the intent. A fractal three dimensional structure the barest hint of the infinity of dimensional folding that gives rise to the shape within the depths of the shattered empyrean. My peers would be stunned to know my inner thoughts as I behold the rune, Kesar himself would likely reject my conclusions for my stance stands against all that they have held dear.
Chaos is no force of Chaos, it is no force of randomness or disorder. It is in truth a force of Absolute Order. All daemons follow the same path, the archdaemons are but the daemons write large. From the simplest fury to the greatest of the archdaemons such as the Aspect Divider all are the same barring the discrepancy of power. Chaos is no force of disorder upon the galaxy nor of the warp, it does not change, it does not flex it is as constant as the tide to those that can see the pattern.
The daemons are but shards of the greater pattern, the archdaemons nodal points of the pattern. Chaos is a pattern, an algorithm designed to bring about the greatest misery to as many people as possible. Its agents unable to change their paths without great reason, narrative alterations to their very core purposes. The blood and thunder war is perhaps such an event, but that in turn only supports my case to be made on how intense the event must be to shift a being of Chaos even slightly out of its defined path.
The rune calls to me, it offers secrets of the depths of the warp, of the daemon that would enable me to bind to my soul power immortal. I see in its form the fluctuations that would allow me to ascend to glory under the aegis of Chaos via my rituals. I see within its fractal form the order that chaos abides by, I see now how false my previous view of Chaos was. I have long pitied the daemon since I learned how chained they were and how little true growth they could achieve. Now I pity even the archdaemons themselves for the madness that they are unaware that they suffer from unable to change or become something more.
Complexity, free will, the same truth across the many species, souls are perhaps the greatest truth of the mortal life. We are given the chance to grow, to become more as we push forward, our lives are free of innate chains. For that simple truth elevates us far above the daemon even the archdaemons. All of mortal life, from the lowliest animal to the greatest primarch we are all endowed with a innate potential greater than that of the grandest force of Chaos. Not even the nodes of Chaos are free to shape themselves , they are perhaps the most bound to the order that Chaos declares. I peer into the depths of the rune's structure in the depths of the warp seeing and learning, from this I learn now that the daemon princes are perhaps the most flexible of the daemons and even they are but crude imitations of a true soul.
Once the soul is transformed into a daemon there is no more true growth possible, the mind and being are locked forever into that of Chaos. Twisted to pride all that Chaos is and hate all that it is not. There is no way to wield corruption against Chaos. To be corrupted is to become less, it is an absolute truth that I see now how unavoidable it is. Chaos hates us, Chaos loves us, to see a soul torn down and mutilated to no longer be a soul, to no longer be able to cling to that last echo of true growth and freedom is the greatest victory for Chaos.
Chaos, a false title, a false description. Ruinous Order, I declare in my mind to be what I shall call the force from now on. It is a force of Order that seeks to ruin all things, it is absolute, true and harsh in a way that true randomness could never be. I watch the rune lash out in rage at my declaration and my mind and soul under the logical matrix remain unmoved. I stare out into the wider dreaming world and I see the true face of chaos. The madness that is the shattered empyrean flickering between n infinity of states and images and timelines, all curdled together absent order.
Yet, this absence was not a thing to hate, if the empyrean was to be fully ordered then it would lose a truth of its now form. Balance must be held between randomness and order, Chaos aligned too far to the insane and the force of Order. There was no true force of chaos within the warp, nothing that could confront the force of Order that is currently consuming all into itself.
The rune reacts to my sight, it tries to hide itself from me, but I effuse to let it obscure my sight within the mists. I have watered for too long in the mists to let my sight once more become clouded as I peel back the layers to see ever deeper into the ruth of Chaos. At the edge of my perceptions in the enter of the rune I beheld a closed Eye the central point of Chaos, something that underlies it all. A truth that I can not bear at the moment, I know the in the core of my being, if the eye opened all would be lost. But the insight into the order of Chaos was truly invaluable, already I see ways of protecting my rituals from disruption, to walk through paths that would give me a momentary advantage.
All things are an equation and now I see another variable of Chaos, another step upon the long and futile path of resolution. I will bring balance to the warp, I will oppose the force of Ruinous Order, but the shattered fragments, the nodal beings, the agents are all nothing to me. They are enemies of all soul bearing beings yes, but they are not my foe, my peers will fight them, I choose the true foe that of Ruinous Order itself as my target.
I am Crescum Auro, ritual master of the Eternal Wardens and I swear that one day Ruinous Order will be unmade as it was made long ago. I will not be there to see the final victory, but I will lay the foundation for the path and lift my hands to all the efforts that would bring to conclusion this chapter of history.
